


My Heart Belongs To Daddy

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Incandescent Hearts [13]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Aliens Made Them Do It, Angst, Angst and Humor, Clueless McCoy, Clueless Spock, Cranky McCoy, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Drag, Drag Queen, Dressing in Drag, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, First Time, Five-Inch Heels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Incandescent Hearts (Star Trek Series), M/M, McCoy In Drag, Men in drag, Parodies, Parodies Of Movie Scenes, Possessive Spock, Protective Spock, Romulan Diplomat, Romulans, Scheming Kirk, Self Spanking, Simulated Spanking, Slow Build, Snarky McCoy, Star Trek Humor, Torch Singing, Torch Song, Voyeurism, Vulcan Kissing, Vulcan yelling, anal sex (implied), fishnet stockings, spones - Freeform, suggestive dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: McCoy is in drag.  A Romulan diplomat is in heat.  And a certain Vulcan is in denial.  How did this odd threesome get to be Jim Kirk’s problem, anyway?  Well, it appears, he’s kinda the one responsible for the whole mess in the first place.





	1. Chapter 1

It had all started innocently enough. In fact, Jim Kirk could shift the blame onto McCoy anytime he wanted. If it hadn’t been for Bones, Kirk would never have had such an odd idea. He certainly wouldn’t have broached the subject, even in jest. Jim Kirk was the possessor of a fine imagination. But even he hadn’t thought of this scenario.

The idea was that Leonard McCoy appear in drag at the crew’s amateur talent show. 

If anyone had demanded, or even suggested, that McCoy present such a risqué performance, there would have been supreme hell to be paid. McCoy would have bitched and moaned until the atmosphere inside the Enterprise would have clouded up and rained purple prose down on the heads of the erring people who had even had the audacity to utter such sacrilege.

When the idea had first come up for an amateur talent show, the obvious first step was to find members of the crew with talent. Not merely ones who thought they had talent, but ones who actually did.

“Scotty, would you play the bagpipes?”

“Aye, Captain. It would be my pleasure.”

“Amazing Grace. You do that one beautifully.”

“Aye, Captain. Thank ye. And Danny Boy. There‘s not a dry eye in the house when I play that good Scottish tune.”

“That’s a good sentimental one, Scotty.”

“Jim, are you trying to entertain people, or put them to sleep?” McCoy protested. “Or, worse yet, get them all to bawling? No offense, Scotty, but those songs are best appreciated after five beers and when people get nostalgic over football fight songs and women with naturally colored hair.”

“The bagpipes are not made to play jolly music, Dr. McCoy,” Scotty answered, slightly insulted. “It’s the sadness wafting down out of the Scottish hills that brings a tear to the eye. And I will not have the suffering of generations of our people made fun of!”

Kirk did not want Scotty to walk in a snit. Scotty was the one sure bet of having some talent on the show, at least among the officers.

“Who else could perform?” Kirk asked, trying to block off confrontation between the two hotheads. Kirk could see that there would have to be a lot of stroking of egos and soothing the volatile artistic temperament. Just let amateurs get a whiff of greasepaint, and they take on drama queen airs!

“I could always sing,” McCoy said, off the cuff.

Everyone stared at McCoy. 

Scotty looked miffed. “Begging your pardon, sir. But there is ample proof that I can play the bagpipes. Everyone here has heard me. And you, who have recently criticized my playing, are now putting yourself forward as a qualified performer?”

“I believe that an amateur show should be just that. So, here I am.”

Jim Kirk, who could almost be described as dropping his teeth at McCoy‘s initial announcement, had sufficiently recovered enough to string words together into a coherent statement. At least, he hoped he sounded intelligible. 

“You sing, Bones?!”

“Well, yes!” McCoy sounded insulted, as if there should be no doubt about his claim.

“Excuse me! I’ve known you, what? How many years? On the Enterprise going on once around the fingers on my left hand. Nearly five years, give or take a few months. And before that, we were roomies at Star Fleet Academy. And never once, not in all of that time, have you ever sung a note! Not even in the shower! Not even hummed a few bars while you were stirring up cornstarch pudding from scratch.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t!” McCoy declared, insulted. “And when in the hell have you ever been around me when I was stirring up cornstarch pudding from scratch?!”

“Your mother told me that you used to do that.”

“When in the hell was there even a lull in the conversation between you two that my mother ever thought to come up with that interesting tidbit?! Normally, she couldn’t get enough time to gush over you! It was always ‘Jimmy, this,’ and ‘Jimmy, that!’ And her hands all over you, like you were some sort of precious china doll from the finest factories in Italy! She couldn’t get her fill of touching you! I never knew she had that kind of a fetish until you came along! I was certainly glad that I hadn’t grown up with you! I would’ve have survived all that time in your shadow!”

“Now, you were just spoiled by all of that attention that you always got from your parents.”

“Be that as it may, I can still sing!” McCoy declared hotly. “When’s rehearsal?!”

After McCoy stomped off, Kirk said to Scotty and Spock who had watched the proceedings in silence, “Well, gentlemen, what do you think of that?”

Scotty looked perplexed and didn’t answer.

All Spock said was, “I am glad that you are directing, Captain, with that diva slated to favor us with his talent.”

“That is why I will need all the help I can get, Spock. So you will be my assistant.”

Spock looked pained. “Captain, I would follow you almost anywhere. The deepest cave, the highest mountain, into a horde of angered natives, but this assignment may be too great of a challenge.”

“That is why it will be such a great learning experience for all of us, Commander. Schedule yourself for play practice duty.”

Spock fought back a sigh. “Yes, Captain.”

 

McCoy showed up at rehearsal in a clingy red satin dress with a split up one leg and a long fringe swishing every which way from the short hem of the skirt. A white feather boa was artfully draped around his shoulders.

“Wow! Bones! I didn’t know your legs were that great!” 

“Well, I look better in heels and a slinky dress than I do in a bulky white terrycloth robe. And wait until you see the wig and eyelashes that Christine and Nyota have lined up for me to wear.”

Kirk laughed. “You are going to be a pretty hot number, Bones! I’ll probably have to hose off the audience!”

McCoy strutted in a tight circle while the fringe on the dress swirled back and forth around his thighs and upper legs.

Kirk let out a wolf whistle. “Wow! You’re pretty sexy looking, Bones! That dress doesn‘t leave much to the imagination. It highlights all of your assets nicely.”

“Not everyone thinks so. I’m not getting a rise out of the Vulcan over there.”

Kirk glanced at Spock as he stood leaning, cross-armed and disgruntled looking, against the wall. Then Kirk glanced back at McCoy and gave him a flirty look. “I hope you’re not meaning that in the literal sense. I wouldn‘t want Spock to bust loose with unbridled passion at the very sight of you in that clingy red dress. Hard telling what might happen around here, if he was not harnessed. You might not be able to keep him under control.”

McCoy looked disgruntled. “Please! Everyone knows that there are three sexes in the universe. Male. Female. And Spock.”

The only reaction from Spock was a slight sniff and a slightly higher elevation in one elegantly arched eyebrow.

“Well, Mr. Spock,” Jim Kirk challenged. “What do you think of that?”

“To what do you have reference, Captain?”

“Dr. McCoy was belittling your gender.”

“I have always maintained that he received his medical degree out of the back of a gypsy wagon passing through his hometown in the dark of the moon. Apparently, he cannot distinguish between the sexes.”

“Well, can you, then?"

“Pardon, Captain?”

“Tell the sexes apart.”

“Certainly. It is a well recognized theory that the two sex system of male and female is universal.”

“But then we have exceptions to the rule.”

“How is that, Captain?”

Kirk gestured toward McCoy. “Why, our sexpot doctor who has been hiding so innocently among our crew.”

“I would not categorize Dr. McCoy of ever being innocent of anything, Captain.”

Kirk saw McCoy grimace and squeeze his eyes shut as if he had felt physical pain. Suddenly, the proceedings had gotten serious, and Kirk did not understand why.

“It’s all in innocent fun, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, trying to soothe feathers that, for some reason, had gotten ruffled.

“Begging the Captain’s pardon, but there is no such thing as ‘innocent fun.’ It is, I have been led to believe, in the category of a misnomer.” 

“Well, yeah, I suppose,“ Kirk fumbled. Spock was nitpicking again, and that would piss off McCoy.

“I rest my case,“ Spock announced in the prissiest voice that Kirk had ever heard him use. With that, Spock turned and marched stiffly away.

Kirk waited until he figured that even a Vulcan couldn‘t overhear. He turned to McCoy. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “What the hell was that about?!”

“The voice of doom and gloom? Old Mr. Rain On Our Parade? I don’t know. He seemed bright and cheerful to me.”

“Don’t you start, too, Bones. I can handle only one of you jokers at a time. Why is he in a snit, anyway? Mad because we didn’t beg him to play one of his musical instruments in the talent show? He hates the color red? Is it that time of the month for him?”

“Any and all would probably be a good answer. And they say that artists are drama queens. He’s acting like the prissiest one out here right now. I should feel inspired to make outrageous demands of management.”

“You do, and I’ll fit the toe of my boot right in the part of you that would anchor you to a flagpole nicely.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to tell the star of your show!” McCoy said hotly.

“The star?! How in the hell did you get to be the star?!”

“Who else?! Scotty, with the moaning bagpipes?! He’s either going to put everyone to sleep or have them all bawling! Consider your options here, Kirk! If you want to have any kind of a show at all, you’d better be ready to kiss my ass just right! I think you’ve got a mouth that would just fit! And be prepared to do it just right! I like it soft and gentle with just a little tease and a lot of tongue!” He glared at Kirk. 

Then his mouth began to twitch.

McCoy and Kirk had to hang onto each other because they were laughing so hard.

“Maybe that could be your star attraction, Jim! I could disrobe, bend over, and spread my legs while you demonstrate your technique for hitting my anus just right with that pretty mouth of yours and long, delicious tongue! I guarantee that it would be a show stopper! The audience would all go home pleased!”

“And probably stimulated to hell wouldn’t have it! We’d probably be responsible for all sorts of children being conceived that night!”

“Or ass holes getting reamed out!”

“Oh, my! We’re getting punchy already, and rehearsals haven’t even started.” Kirk wiped happy tears away. “What are you going to do, anyway? ‘Hey, Big Spender’ from ‘Sweet Charity’ or ‘Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend’ from ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?’”

“Good choices. But I have something else picked out. A Cole Porter song from 1938. I’m changing the words around a little, but I think that you and the audience will like my version.”

“And if we don’t, we’ll just stare at you in that dress. It’ll be worth the price of admission.”

“What?! Free?!” McCoy slung his boa around his shoulder. “You couldn’t afford me, sailor, at any price!”

Kirk laughed. “Great acting!”

McCoy stopped and gave him a haughty look. “Who’s acting?”

Kirk laughed again. “You’re getting in character!”

McCoy broke character and grinned. “Notice the haughty look? I borrowed that from Spock. We actors are so inspired by our environment.”

Kirk continued laughing. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do a stand up routine?! You have great material so far!”

“I am talented, it’s true," McCoy said, getting back into character. "But I can’t carry the whole show. That will have to be done by the little people.”

Kirk hooted. “Little people?! You’re not going to win many fans acting like that!”

“Please,” Leona, aka Leonard, sniffed. "We drama queens can hand out only so many pearls at a time!”

Kirk wiped away happy tears. If McCoy was half as good of a singer as he was a comic, this was going to be a great show.

 

The night of the amateur talent show brought all kinds of expectations out in the waiting crowd. Word had gotten out that a ‘certain doctor’ was going to appear in drag. That would be draw enough, but scuttlebutt was that McCoy would be the femme fatale. Now, THAT would be something worth seeing.

The lights dimmed, the crowd quieted, and all eyes were on the spotlight lit curtain. Suddenly a shapely leg appeared in the slit in the curtain. Black fishnet stockings supported by five inch heels encased the long, comely leg. 

Wolf whistles and applause sprang up.

Music started and then was heard in a throaty, sexy, come hither voice:

“Though I’m in love, I’m not above  
A date with a duke or a caddie”

McCoy stepped out in the short red dress and long, long eyelashes, and the crowd responded with cheers.

“It’s just a pose, ‘cause my baby knows,” McCoy sang as he began strutting across the stage and whirling the white feather boa. Then he stopped, looked coy at the audience, and fluttered those long, long eyelashes at them.

“That my heart belongs to daddy,” he sang, and the crowd whooped.

He began prancing again while drawing the feather boa across his hips.

“When some good scout, invites me out  
To dine on some fine fin and haddie”

McCoy stopped and flirted with the audience.

“My baby’s sure, his love is secure.”

McCoy put his gloved index finger in the bottom of his chin and gave the crowd a sly half smile. Then he cast his eyes upward as if he was innocence personified.

“’Cause my heart belongs to daddy,” he sang in the same breathy way Marilyn Monroe had done.

Men stomped their feet on the floor and women swooned. Cries of “Date me!” echoed in the room as well as “Marry me!” Men were beating on their chests and tearing open their shirts. Women were laughing and catcalling. Christine Chapel was beside herself with glee. Tears of pure joy were rolling down her cheeks. She had a year’s worth of teasing material to use on McCoy, and he was showing no signs of relinquishing the stage anytime soon.

McCoy began strutting again in time to the music.

“Yes, my heart belongs to my daddy  
So I simply couldn’t be bad,” he informed his audience in Marilyn’s breathy voice.

He stopped and looked at his audience again and shyly informed them:

“Yes, I’m gonna marry my daddy  
Cause my daddy makes me so glad.”

The music went to instrumental as McCoy headed for the audience and stopped near some of his friends who were in the front row. He drew the feather boa around the neck of a shy Chekov, then acted coy and ducked away when the earthy Scotty made a grab for him.

Then he blew them a kiss and strutted around the stage while the orchestra played more of the song. He flipped the edges of his dress as if he was going to start stripping. He opened his mouth as if encouraging the cheers. 

“Take it off! Take it all off!” came the response.

McCoy waved his gloved finger to indicate that they were being naughty and followed that with a knowing look.

After two lines of instrumental music, McCoy stopped as did the music. Then McCoy sang a cappella to the audience:

“Yes, I’m gonna marry my daddy  
Cause my daddy belongs just to me.”

McCoy wrinkled his nose and stroked his upper arms with his gloved hands, then rolled his eyes and made a face like he was in ecstasy from his own touch. 

Of course, that brought more catcalls.

The music started softly and McCoy stared wistfully out into the audience, but with a knowing look and sly smile. The room quieted so the audience could hear what he was going to say next.

Then McCoy spoke in that same wistful little voice. “Isn’t there anyone out there who wants to be my daddy? Because I sure need someone to take good care of me.” His eyes darted around the audience. “And to make me mind,” he half-sang, half-talked as he smiled. “If only you can.” The soft music stopped. McCoy's eyes dared them. ”I’d really like to feel the slap of your hand,” he sang and slapped his own rump as he stuck it out. "Because my ass belongs to my Daddy!"

That brought the house down. Everyone was beside themselves, most with hysteria, some with pretended lust, a few with genuine lust.

Then the music started up again, and McCoy strutted around the stage once more, then headed for the curtain. Shouts of “More, more!” thundered behind him. 

Some guy yelled, “You can have me tonight, Sweet Cakes! Just say where and when!” 

Some other guy yelled, “And how! Anything goes, sweetheart! Anything! Especially your clothes!” 

Then the audience laughed.

“I think you’re a success, Bones!” Kirk told the flush-faced, grinning McCoy backstage. “Go take a well deserved bow!”

McCoy did, and the audience laughed and roared. McCoy waved at them with a huge grin, then turned, gave them a coy look over his shoulder, pursed his lips together in a kiss for them, and swung his weight all onto one out-thrust hip. That action brought even more catcalls.

Then McCoy disappeared backstage for good. The audience was laughing and wondering who would dare follow that act. It would be difficult to settle down and give proper attention to anyone else.

But the best reaction was Spock standing in the back of the room, if anybody would have bothered to look at him. Although assistant director, he had never seen McCoy‘s whole number. It apparently had made quite an impression on him.

Spock was still staring at the curtain where McCoy had disappeared. Anyone watching would have wondered if it was advisable to look that long without blinking his eyes.

 

Spock still couldn’t stop staring in silence at McCoy after the performance. He sat in McCoy’s dressing room transfixed by McCoy’s face in the mirror. The pancake makeup had evened out McCoy’s complexion and had given it a translucence and depth. Spock swore he could see several inches down into all of that creaminess. But that didn’t make sense. Logic, and a knowledge of the structure of the human face and the skin covering it, told Spock that he could not be seeing what he appeared to be seeing. Yet, there it was in front of Spock’s eyes. And all he wanted to do was to see how far down that creaminess went…. And to touch it…. And to taste it…. And to run his lips over it....

Spock watched as McCoy applied cream and started wiping away the beautiful illusion that Spock wanted to study further. How disappointing! He could ask McCoy to apply the makeup again so he could study it more, but he could only imagine the tirade that would produce in the doctor. Spock sighed. He really would like to see that illusion again. Leonard had looked so, so fragile, like someone who needed to be protected. Spock thought that he liked that look on McCoy.

“I don’t know if I can ever get all of this damn makeup off, Jim!” McCoy jumped to his feet and flounced around the dressing room in the high heels which threatened to twist his ankles with every step.

“Wouldn’t it help if you took off those spikes?” Kirk offered.

“Oh, yeah,” McCoy muttered and stopped to remove the shoes. 

“You were graceful on stage wearing those heels,“ Kirk reminded him. "Now you're going to be lucky if you don't break your neck in them."

“I was in character,“ McCoy grumbled. “I was Leona, the graceful singer and walker. Now, I’m back to being Leonard, the klutz.”

Sock-footed and without stage makeup, McCoy didn’t look half so sexy, but he still could make many a heart flutter in that flame red dress. 

In fact, at the moment, one heart in the room was doing quite a bit of fluttering at the sight of him in that bright red dress. Spock liked to watch the fringe on the dress shimmy around McCoy‘s hips when he walked. And if McCoy chanced to turn suddenly when he was walking, the fringe swirled around McCoy‘s hips and hugged them tightly. Spock wondered how it would be to be draped around McCoy‘s hips like that. He wondered if the fringe knew how lucky it was.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Vulcan,” McCoy muttered as he set the high heels aside. “Or were you just stunned beyond words by my performance?”

“Spock, I think he’s talking to you.”

Spock blinked, but that was the only sign of life he showed.

“Are you alright?” McCoy asked with a frown and stepped up to touch Spock’s face. “You’re looking a strange shade of yellowish green, or is it just the lights in here?”

Spock drew his head back as McCoy’s hand reached for him. Then he jumped to his feet and raced out of the dressing room.

“What the-- What’s wrong with that little bastard now?!” McCoy frowned. “Acting crazier than goose down in a rain storm! Flying every which way!”

“I don’t know what that means, Bones,” Kirk said with a laugh. “But I do believe that you stunned the hell out of Spock. He’s looking like he may never recover.”

“If he doesn’t straighten up damn fast,” McCoy barked with an ill humor, “I’ll give him a cold water enema! That always gets results! It ought to bring him out of whatever catatonic state he’s put himself in.”

“I think that would about do it!” Kirk agreed. “Remind me not to get into any catatonic state. The doctor has a helluva cure for it.”

“Yeah, but it works every time. Gives the person something else to think about, some focus on reality. It never fails to get results. It's great in the springtime, to get people up and moving and over the winter doldrums.”

“I’m supposing you mean two kinds of results, psychological as well as physical.”

“Well! Yes! Tones a person right up, on all levels!”

“Yes, I suppose it would! But, no, Bones, honest. I think you opened Spock‘s eyes tonight. He‘d never seen you look so comely and vulnerable before. And earthy. And sexy.”

“Really? I didn’t think that anything would touch that little bastard’s libido,” McCoy muttered as he attacked his face at the hairline with more cleansing cream.

But Kirk couldn’t help thinking that part of McCoy's performance had been for Spock’s benefit. 

And that it had hit home.

And that McCoy knew it.

And was pleased.


	2. Chapter 2

Spock could not understand his wide variety of sensations concerning Leonard McCoy following McCoy‘s performance at the amateur show. Here Spock had served with the cantankerous doctor for a long time now and thought he knew McCoy. True, one never knew when McCoy’s mellow disposition might suddenly dissolve in an emotionally laden rant. It could happen as gently as a housefly landing on a kitchen countertop. Or as explosively as three tons of dynamite going off at once. Either experience could be jarring. Neither could be ignored.

It had to be nerve wracking to live with such a tinderbox of angst forever simmering just beneath the surface. But McCoy was victim to more of his emotions than a volatile temper. Spock had seen McCoy melt into helpless tears at an abused child or a senseless death, then turn around with the same amount of emotion and bitch about the wrong brand of bourbon being served at a party. 

Spock had seen McCoy turn on his Southern gentleman charm, especially around the ladies, and have everyone in smiles and talking in soft, slurry tones just as he was. He could bring out the best in people by his examples of gallantry and courtliness and charm. It could be easily imagined that no bad thought or pessimistic viewpoint had ever crossed McCoy’s mind when McCoy was in this type of mode.

He was a tireless champion of his patients, taking each case as a person and not as something to be studied and compared with previous cases or triumphantly slotted in the right statistics. His patients were human beings, not laboratory rats. And he would sit with them for double shifts, sleep all night at their sides during a crisis, and weep unashamed when he was unable to stop life from slipping away from his attempts to hang onto it.

But so many contradictions! He could nurture, but would bluster when caught doing it. He could be an acid tongued declaimer of ‘poppycock’ if he saw something that needed being fixed, especially if it was hopelessly caught up in the web of stupidity or bureaucracy. He could speak plain truth if it needed to be told, or soften the harshest blows with the gentlest of language. 

He was fire and ice and love and hate and all of the emotional conundrums that Spock could imagine. Spock should be used to such behavior after all of this time of being around McCoy. And yet McCoy was continuing come up with some action that would amaze and even stun his emotional opposite, Spock.

But it was what Spock had witnessed of McCoy at the crew’s amateur talent show that had virtually knocked Spock out of his own concept of reality. How could this floozy tart parading around so wantonly up on the stage be Leonard McCoy? Granted the performance was titillating, but still!

But it wasn’t who it was, but what it was representing that had left Spock thunderstruck. The blatant sensuality appealed to Spock on a primitive, vegetative level. He wanted to answer that sexuality with a basic need of his own that was suddenly needing to be addressed. Leonard McCoy had ceased to exist, and in his place was a faceless urge that made all other ambitions moot. McCoy became a sexual object to Spock. But something humanely ingrained in Spock told him that categorizing any being in that manner just wasn’t right. 

But it was still there, licking at Spock's mind. And worse yet, Spock's loins. 

It was demeaning to a civilized person to put human relationships on such an unrefined level, but it seemed to match a hunger in Spock. He feared he was reverting back to the primitive beginnings of Vulcan culture. What next? Emotions would take over again, followed by the warfare and senseless killing of by his earliest ancestors?

Spock hoped that these urges would not lead to that.

Meanwhile, Spock had also begun to notice that he had a certain ‘awareness’ of Leonard McCoy that had not been there before. And lately that ‘awareness’ was definitely registering with Spock. And, was it his imagination, or was Dr. McCoy suddenly becoming more ‘aware’ of Spock than normal? There seemed to be an electricity, a vibrancy, between them that there had never been before. What did it all mean, Spock wondered? Should he indicate to McCoy that he had an interest, an ‘awareness,’ in him, also? Would McCoy be receptive?

Spock did not know what to do. It made him uncomfortable. Part of him wanted to answer the siren call of this ‘awareness,‘ but another part, his logical side, said that it was best if it was left alone. Or forgotten. 

Ah, that felt good! Yes, that was the answer! Perhaps it would be best if this ‘awareness’ between them just went away on its own, and he and McCoy went back to their old relationship of friends and colleagues. How safe! How reassuring!

Spock breathed deeply. He did not know much about relationships, but from what he had seen of other people’s, they were messy and emotional and time wasting and full of angst. Spock did not know if he wanted to go through all of that upheaval to experience the joys of a physical relationship with someone.

But, oh, that Leonard McCoy was an enigma! He could keep Spock interested for a lifetime!

And was Spock missing out if he didn’t try a deeper relationship with McCoy?

 

In the meanwhile, Leonard McCoy had no way of knowing that Spock was having any sort of traumatic feelings about him. McCoy just knew that he had flirted with Spock and had received nothing back that would indicate any interest from the Vulcan. 

McCoy had even gone out of his way to make an ass out of himself in front of the whole crew! He was hoping that he would garner looks of appreciation from Spock or grim indications that Spock did not want McCoy to act so brazenly to others. Anything, anything at all, that would mean that Spock was jealous and wanted McCoy for himself.

But nothing, nothing at all. Well, the Vulcan did act a little dense, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But that wasn’t much. Disinterest could get the same reaction out of him. Indignation about McCoy’s behavior might make Spock act the same way, too. Like the prim and proper Victorian lady in him was making herself known.

Sullenness didn’t count. And Spock had definitely been sullen. But that could’ve been caused by anything from harsh musical criticism of McCoy's song to jealousy of not being asked to perform at the amateur show to dyspepsia.

Whatever, Spock was not interested. Well, time to move on, McCoy decided with a sigh. Still, it might have been nice to be with the Vulcan. And there would have been two less lonely people in the universe.

 

It still would have been alright if everything would have stopped there. McCoy would have ended his stage career in a blaze of glory. He would have returned the red dress, five inch heels, wig, and long, long eyelashes to their rightful owners and worked his next shift in sickbay. And all should have gone on as before. But that’s not the way things happen on the Enterprise.

There would have been some good natured ribbing for awhile, and McCoy would wisely let his hecklers get their fill of teasing him. He really wouldn’t mind and would actually find that he enjoyed the attention he was receiving. He had a good sense of humor and could roll with the punches.

Occasionally, through the coming years, someone might say, “Hey, remember the time Dr. McCoy dressed up in drag and sang the great torch song?” Then everyone would hash over their memories of the grand event, and it would have all eventually gone down in Star Trek lore as another milestone along the way.

But, of course, it didn’t end there. And it was all because of treaty negotiations for continued peace in the universe and a certain Romulan diplomat who was being transported to that event on the Starship Enterprise. 

And a certain Star Fleet captain thought that he would host a variety show for the diplomat while he was on board. Kirk was there to stroke the ego of the diplomat and keep him happy. What better way than to present a unique program in his honor? Where else in Star Fleet could the diplomat be entertained with such talent as was contained on the Enterprise?

And the star of that show was none other than Leonard McCoy in drag, singing a great old Cole Porter song from 1938. 

Would McCoy bring Leona back one more time? Kirk wanted to know.

All McCoy could see was a sullen Spock and another opportunity to flaunt Leona’s attributes at the Vulcan.

McCoy said yes before Jim Kirk got his question completely asked.

Great! Jim Kirk thought and mentally rubbed his hands together in glee. The show was coming together. Thank goodness it was still fresh in the minds of the performers. 

The diplomat would love it.

 

The diplomat did.

 

Zortan the Romulan diplomat was a tall, husky, bulky guy who looked like he might be more comfortable on the battlefield than at the negotiations table. He was muscular and looked like he not only pitched horseshoes for fun, but the whole horse. And then roared of his success while someone else had to shoot the poor injured horse to put him out of his misery.

When he met the diplomat, Kirk thought of Teutonic warlords and Wagnerian operas and bulls crashing around inside china shops. He reminded himself to think, instead, of cunning ploys and not of brute strength. This was supposed to be a diplomat, not the soldier that Zortan more resembled. Kirk made a mental note not to get out delicate crystal and damask linens for the diplomat's use. That sort of thing probably got destroyed easily in his presence. Zortan looked like he drank mead out of a cow horn, belched loudly, and threw discarded animal bones under the table for the dogs to chew on. If there was anything left to eat on the bones, that is. And if there were dogs under the tables on the Enterprise.

Kirk also made the mental note of no vichyssoise or girly finger foods or insipid salads. This man surely ate haunches of animal meat every meal, hopefully after the poor animal was humanely slaughtered. Livestock probably got nervous whenever he looked them over. Most people would see livestock in a cow lot or pasture. Zortan probably saw hot entrees on the hoof. ‘First class protein’ was probably his anthem as well as his main dietary regime. 

And the food provided for him on the Enterprise had better not be vegetarian fare such as Spock consumed, either. Zortan probably would starve on those rations. His system would not be geared to process all of that plant material. Or other parts of his system to eliminate it, either. 

Zortan would be an experience to provide for, but Kirk was determined that he and the crew would cope. The peace of the universe depended on keeping Zortan happy.

So Kirk took a deep breath, slapped his best charming smile on his best ass-kissing face, welcomed Zortan to the Enterprise, and got him settled into his quarters without too much trouble. Then Kirk took another deep breath. One hurtle down. How many more to go?

He shouldn’t have asked.

 

“If it please the diplomat, we have put together a little entertainment for this evening after dinner in honor of your being with us,” Kirk informed Zortan with his best manners and heartiest voice.

“That would please me very much, Captain Kirk,” Zortan answered as he wiped his face with his napkin.

Gnawed bones hadn’t disappeared under the table, and meat hadn’t been ripped bloody off living animals. Zortan was even using a napkin. Kirk had been encouraged. Things were looking up.

Zortan wasn‘t as bad as Kirk had surmised on first meeting the diplomat. The man did eat cooked meat, and Kirk had actually seen some vegetables go down the man‘s gullet. Granted, it was mostly potatoes. But it was a start. Probably some other vegetables had made their way down the chute, also. Mostly by accident, but once again, it was a start.

Kirk smiled. “It’s just a little amateur presentation by the crew and officers here on the Enterprise, but we hope that you will find it amusing.”

“Oh, I’m certain that I will, Captain Kirk. I bore easily and I fear that the trip might prove tedious before we reach our destination.”

“Well, we will try everything in our power to make your journey a comfortable, safe, and, hopefully, an entertaining one.”

A few minutes later, the program began.

After Scotty played his bagpipes, he came over to sit with the dignitaries because he was third in command. He had not previously met Zortan, so Kirk provided introductions. Kirk thought that Scotty looked a little stunned at meeting Zortan, but paid it no heed as Scotty often looked that way. 

Kirk settled back to watch the rest of the show. He was eagerly awaiting McCoy's number.

“Captain, a word,” Scotty hissed in Kirk’s ear that was away from Zortan.

“Not now, Scotty. Bones is coming out soon. I don‘t want to miss him.”

“Please, Captain. It is highly important.”

“It better be,” Kirk mumbled. “Mr. Zortan,” Kirk said, “please excuse me for a moment. Something urgent has come to my attention.”

“Of course, Captain. But hurry back. Your crew is quite entertaining.”

Out in the hallway, Kirk said, “This better be good, Scotty. I just left the guest of honor.”

Scotty was looking extremely concerned. “Captain, where did you find that guy?” Scotty questioned.

“He’s Zortan, the Romulan who is in charge of treaty negotiations.”

Scotty’s eyes bugged out. “And he’s also Zortan, the Romulan who likes guys in drag! Especially pretty, flirty guys in drag! And guess who we have on board the Enterprise who answers that description?! And will be appearing at any moment looking for a daddy to adopt him and to treat him real nice?!”

“Dr. Leonard McCoy, currently known as Leona the lounge lizard,” Kirk muttered. “I see your concern. And McCoy’s still having trouble keeping his knees together in that dress.”

“That will really encourage Zortan!” Scotty declared. “He’ll think that McCoy is advertising! Something to the effect, ‘This space available for rent, or whatever you have in mind, big guy.’ McCoy won‘t even know what hit him! He‘ll walk around afterward like he‘s been trying to ride two horses tied neck to neck! With each of his legs around each horse!”

Kirk grimaced. “Ouch!”

“Ouch is right! Zortan will be smiling, and McCoy never may again! Jim! That will be suicide on McCoy’s part! His ankles weren’t meant to rest comfortably up with his wrists held away from his body! But that‘s the way he‘s gonna look when Zortan gets through with him! McCoy will be three and one half feet tall and five feet wide!”

Kirk grimaced again. “I don’t know what to do to help Bones. We’ll have to sidetrack Zortan.”

“Jim. Did you ever try to sidetrack Niagara Falls? Or keep a bunch of old maids away from the county fair kissing booth when really good looking men were running it?“ He looked wild. “Or a classroom of first graders headed for recess on the first day of spring?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Oh, that’s Zortan on a good day.”

“And this will be a bad day for him?”

“Not after he sees McCoy in drag. Then it all will go downhill for McCoy. And probably us, to boot.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Kirk muttered. 

“Can we warn Dr. McCoy?”

“He’s never met the diplomat. There wasn’t time, just like with you. I should’ve planned this show for tomorrow night.”

“He’ll know that there’s important company,” Scotty surmised with a worried face. “Dr. McCoy will be playing to the guy.”

“I’m afraid so,“ Kirk muttered. “Oh, oh, and I hear McCoy’s music. Come on! Let’s get back in there!”

McCoy was strutting his stuff when Kirk and Scotty found back their chairs beside Zortan.

“Kirk! You’re missing it! This singer is terrific!” A big smile was spread over Zortan’s face.

McCoy was at the end of his number where he was asking, “Isn’t there anyone out there who wants to be my daddy? Because I sure need someone to take good care of me.”

Zortan hooted and applauded.

Once again, McCoy’s eyes darted around the audience. “And to make me mind,” he half-sang, half-talked as he smiled. “If you can.” His eyes dared them. ”I’d really like to feel the slap of your hand,” he sang and slapped his own rump. "Because my ass belongs to my daddy!"

The music started and Zortan yelled that he would be Leona's daddy. Then he turned to his host.

“Captain Kirk!” Zortan’s eyes were shining. “I simply must meet Miss Leona!”

Beside him, Kirk felt Scotty cringe. 

“I’ll, ah, see what I can do.“

“Is Miss Leona yours? Is that why you are reluctant?“

“No, no, not mine,“ Kirk mumbled. 

“Good. I will have her then.“

Kirk glanced at the perplexed Scotty. They were thinking the same thing.

So much for McCoy’s honor. And the peace of the universe.

 

Of course, later, back in his dressing room, McCoy thought that the Romulan was just being a good sport and going along with a joke. So McCoy did, too, and flirted along with him. 

Besides, Spock was standing nearby with his arms crossed and the look of dyspepsia on his face again. Spock wasn't liking the attention that McCoy was getting from Zortan. Good! McCoy decided to give Spock something more to worry about.

“That was a lovely number that you performed, Miss Leona,” Zortan was saying.

“Oh, go on with you now!” McCoy admonished with a swish of the feather boa at Zortan and a coy roll of the eyes.

“Ah, Bones,” Kirk tried to interject.

“Later, Jimmy!” McCoy admonished. “Mr. Zortan and I are getting acquainted.” McCoy made certain that Spock had a clear view of him, and then he wrinkled his nose at the Romulan. He saw Spock bite his lips together. “He is absolutely fascinating!”

Kirk saw Spock roll his eyes, and Kirk felt like rolling his eyes, too. McCoy was being an utter ass and had no idea what he was dealing with. Kirk had a feeling that part of McCoy’s flirting was for Spock’s benefit. McCoy probably wouldn’t have lain it on so heavily, otherwise.

“I am impressed very favorably with you, McCoy, and I want to date you.”

“My, you don’t mince around with words, do you, handsome?”

“I see what I want, and I take it!”

McCoy made a pretty moue with his lips and looked up through his eyelashes. “Oh-h-h! A man of action!”

“Bones,” Kirk cautioned, but he knew McCoy was paying more attention to Spock than to him. Kirk hadn’t had a chance to tell Spock of the problem, so Spock’s reaction was totally in retaliation of McCoy’s acting like a tart. Whatever, Spock was looking pretty grim at McCoy throwing himself at the Romulan.

“I will only be too happy to show you how much action is at my disposal, my lovely McCoy!” Zortan's eyes sizzled with excited fires burning inside him.

McCoy saw Kirk frown at him and began to wonder if he should back off a little. “Oh, mighty Zortan,” McCoy quipped and shook his long feather boa in his direction. “You do flatter me. But, silly boy, it cannot be.”

“Why not, McCoy?!” Zortan roared.

“Why, I have my life here, and you have yours.” He batted his eyelashes a few times in Zortan’s direction, then motioned away with his hand. “Your home is way, way, over there, in the Romulan Empire. I could not choose to live there. I am an Earthling. I would miss my kind.”

“I will have your kind imported to be company for you. A whole country from Earth, if you so desire it.”

Wow! This guy was either a helluva great actor with improv or hung up on sex. Maybe that was what Kirk had been trying to get across. “There are those who would not choose to go along with that,” McCoy said in his normal tone of voice. “Disrupting countless lives would not be a token of your passion. It would be a token of something else.”

Oh, boy, McCoy doesn‘t want to play anymore! Kirk thought. And Zortan still does. I can tell by the flare of Zortan’s nostrils and the set of his mouth. And the fire in his eyes. There's probably fires still burning inside him, too.

“Now, wait a minute, Bones,” Kirk cautioned. “We don’t want to be too hasty here. We want to keep Zortan happy.”

“Then you go with him to the little love nest he has all set up for his bride!”

“Not Jim Kirk!” Zortan roared.

“Not me?” Kirk echoed. Not that he was wanting to go with the Romulan. Nothing like that. He just didn’t want to come in second best in any beauty contest, even if the guy in red was already owning it.

“No! McCoy!” Zortan gave McCoy a stripping look that made McCoy feel uneasy. And dirty. “My loins are burning for McCoy!”

McCoy jerked his head back and batted his eyes, but not in a sexy way. And definitely not at Zortan. This was not good news.

“Well, since you put it that way--” Kirk started.

“Jim!” McCoy hissed. “Get me out of this!”

“You heard the man, Bones. His loins are burning.”

“Well, mine aren’t! And I don’t want other parts of me burning, either! And just by sizing him up, I’d say he’s got a dong long enough to come out of my mouth! From the wrong way!”

“Now, that would be a change up, wouldn‘t it?” Kirk asked with a merry grin. “Generally, dongs are headed the other way in throats. Down.”

“Jim! Get serious! Bottom line here is that we’re talking my asshole! And I’ve got a vested interest!”

“Bottom line is that I’m trying to keep peace with the Romulan Empire.”

“Even to the sacrifice of my asshole?!”

“As the song says, ‘Some gave all.’”

“Well, that’s not my anthem! And I sure as hell am not planning on adopting it as my theme song anytime soon!”

“Well, we seem to be at an impasse here,” Kirk said. “Mr. Zortan, I’m sorry. Leona McCoy declines your offer.”

“I want McCoy!” Zortan roared.

“I am taken!” McCoy roared back as he wildly clutched at straws.

“By whom?! Kirk said that you weren’t his! Then, who?! And I will fight him for you! And kill him! Then you will see only Zortan!”

“That will not turn my head! I will not take it kindly if you start killing people to impress me favorably! I’m a doctor! I don’t like senseless death! I preserve life! And I’m not a cat owner, either, who is supposed to be impressed by a dead mouse brought to it by its cat after a successful hunt! And just to make it clearer yet! That sort of thing will not win my heart! Or any other choice parts of me! And I’m choosing! No guy tells me who gets me! My decision!” He looked from one to the other. “Got it, Zortan?! Kirk?!”

Kirk bit his lips together, then shrugged his shoulders with acceptance. There comes a time when even Starfleet captains are powerless.

“You make a lot of demands, McCoy,” Zortan muttered.

“Well, I’m the one with the premium asshole on this negotiations table! My call! Got it?!” He was so mad that he was starting to cry. But he’d be damn if he’d admit tears, even to the extent of letting the tears and snot run down his face without even trying to wipe them away. He’d pretend they weren’t there, even if they were tickling his face. And nobody else better not mention them, either! In McCoy’s present manical state, he’d rip the s. o. b. a new one, and Zortan could just go after that, if he was into ripped up assholes that much!

Zortan looked at Jim Kirk with appreciation and fire in his eyes. “Oh! A lot of spirit in that one! I like that! I must have McCoy! Him, or the treaty is dead!”

Kirk rolled his eyes.

“No, you don’t!” McCoy roared. “I said I was taken, and that’s that!”

“And I asked who?! Who, McCoy?! If not Kirk, then who?! Who?!”

McCoy spun and pointed. “Him!”

Zortan and Kirk both whirled to see who the mystery lover was.

The only one standing in that direction was Spock.


	3. Chapter 3

Spock had been hovering on the sidelines barely paying attention because, well, sometimes he could not keep up with what was being said. And it wasn’t because he was stupid or addle-pated. He just had so many pulls on his interest.

A lot of his concentration had been on McCoy and the way he was flaunting himself at the Romulan diplomat. That wasn’t right for McCoy to be acting that way. The Romulan would get the wrong idea. It wasn’t that Spock blamed the Romulan. McCoy was certainly fascinating to watch. That’s what Spock would like to spend more time doing.

Because part of Spock simply wanted to have all the time he wanted to look at how that lovely dress was caressing McCoy body, especially at the hip area. And then the fringe, the fringe on that red dress was swirling and almost exposing what was underneath it. And that translucent makeup was still on McCoy’s face, and Spock could almost see into the depths of McCoy’s skin. If he just had the opportunity to watch that fringe for awhile and peer into the depths of that translucent skin, he would stand transfixed and awed for hours. McCoy was an exotic piece of walking art, something created by the Greek sculptors and brought to life by their gods. How could McCoy not realize how stunning, how perfect, how tempting he was?

Spock just did not like to have the Romulan looking at and appreciating McCoy, also. That Romulan looked lustful.

But Spock’s interest in McCoy’s charming attributes and slattern behavior wasn’t the only thing robbing Spock of his attention. It was the language itself, and so Spock was only half listening while the words washed over him and he watched McCoy. 

Even the Romulan could handle idioms better than Spock, and that in itself was amazing and yet difficult to accept. 

Spock was just contemplating the fact that Romulans and Vulcans had a common ancestor. So, how could a Romulan understand the idioms that the Earthlings used if Spock, a Vulcan, could not? He was around these Earthlings more than Zortan. Why could he, Spock, not understand idioms any better than he could?

He was just to that place in his reasoning when he became aware that the arguing had suddenly stopped, all heads were turned to him, and McCoy in the magnificent red dress was fighting tears of anger and pointing straight at him. Kirk and Zortan were also looking at him, but with stunned faces, as opposed to McCoy’s angry one.

Obviously, he had missed something vital in the discussion.

Was it his turn to speak? And if so, what should he say? They all seemed to be waiting for him. How could he contribute something pertinent to the discussion when he did not have context of what was being said?

Then the last words to be spoken by McCoy somehow penetrated Spock’s intellectual processes. Somewhere in Spock, he had been listening, after all.

McCoy had just said he was taken, ah, sexually, by, ah, Spock.

Really?! Had Spock heard that right? He wouldn’t mind, but, really? Was that what McCoy had just said?!

It dawned on Spock that that was exactly what McCoy had said.

He and McCoy were lovers?! That was quite a step from simply being 'aware' of each other!

Then Spock did a classic double take. Jim Kirk hadn’t realized that Spock could do a classic double take. Jim Kirk made a bet with himself that Spock hadn’t realized, either, that he could do a classic double take. Be that as it may, Spock had just performed a beauty. He could be a contender in a double take competition and take home the gold.

Not only that, Spock’s mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out. Could thyroid trouble come on suddenly like that and cause eye bulge of that extreme? Jim Kirk began to worry about Spock’s health. 

But there was suddenly no time to worry about anybody’s health, because heated words began to fly around the room again.

“That one?!” Zortan roared. “That one?!” he roared with more incredulity.

Spock got enough presence of mind back to stop looking like someone had hit him in the middle of his forehead with a forty pound sledge hammer. Now he just looked insulted by Zortan’s disparaging remarks. Why not someone like Spock?!

“Yes, this one!” McCoy declared and flounced to Spock’s side. Well, flounced isn’t really the best word for the type of walking he was doing. McCoy was out of the Leona character and had lost his mastery of the five inch heels. The results were a hula shimmer in forward motion. A Pekinese dog would have been jealous of McCoy‘s walking. 

So in the process of joining Spock, his hips were swaying enticingly. It was as if a cargo of steel had broken its moorings in the hull of a ship and was shifting in whatever direction the ship took on the waves. The attention of everyone in the room was on that bizarre, almost embarrassing exhibit of blatant sexuality as McCoy struggled to walk. 

But McCoy couldn’t help it. He knew he had to be making a show like the hottest harlot out there. But how else could he walk in five inch platform heels?

Zortan’s mouth dropped open in interest. McCoy was getting saucy again for Zortan. Why else were the doctor’s hips in motion like that, if not to enflame Zortan?

Jim Kirk rolled his eyes. McCoy wasn’t doing a whole lot to dissuade the Romulan. With that sexy walk, quite the opposite was true. Zortan must think that McCoy was flirting with him and then playing hard to get.

Jim Kirk had the feeling, though, that McCoy was no longer playing. If Kirk was reading McCoy’s eyes right, the good doctor was getting ready to tell everyone in hearing distance just what he was thinking of the ridiculous situation he was now finding himself. And, by the way, the damn heels were hurting his feet. And he just might have twisted both of his ankles on his way over to Spock. 

Kirk thought about that. Men were stronger than women, but their ankles weren’t built for high heels. Women must have muscles of steel in their calves and ankles. No wonder they looked good in heels.

But Kirk had to stop thinking of women in high heels, even if he would like to dwell on that distracting subject for awhile. The Romulan bugle was blaring again.

“That one?!” Zortan roared again like a stuck record.

“Damn bastard can’t take a hint,” McCoy muttered to himself as he stood beside Spock, and Spock’s Vulcan hearing heard every syllable. “What are we going to do to get out of this situation, Spock?”

Spock looked at McCoy without understanding. He had not been aware that he was in a situation.

“We?” Spock asked, wishing clarification.

“Don’t look now, Vulcan,” McCoy muttered under his breath. “But you’re my sweetheart.”

“Huh?” Spock asked like any puzzled country bumpkin would. “I am, what?!”

“That one?!” Zortan echoed again, this time to Kirk.

“His English is failing him,” McCoy muttered. “He’s down to two words. But, boy, does he have them down pat.”

“Zortan, I believe that you may have misunderstood,” Jim Kirk started.

“And I believe that you may have misunderstood!” Zortan roared, at last recalling more of his schoolroom English. “McCoy is mine! Or no treaty!”

Kirk looked helplessly at McCoy. “Bones--”

“Same deal! My asshole is not on the negotiation table!” McCoy declared.

Spock frowned at him. For starters, he did not even see a table anywhere near them. For another, he wondered when McCoy’s anus had been removed. And wouldn’t McCoy be screaming in pain now instead of displaying his obvious wrath? Spock did not know much about emotions. But he would have bet that McCoy would have been displaying something quite different now if his anus had been removed and placed on some table that the others could obviously see, but Spock could not.

“Besides, I’m taken!” McCoy informed the other three, in case that fact had escaped anyone in the last five minutes. He glanced at Spock. “By him!” Now everyone had been reminded of that salient fact, also.

“That one?!” Zortan roared again.

Spock sighed to himself. The Romulan was back to his two words of English.

“It cannot be!” Zortan roared as he stepped toward Spock and McCoy.

McCoy stepped back and slightly closer to Spock, but held his ground.

Ah, thought Spock. The Romulan has remembered more English. It seemed to come and go with the Romulan, in the manner and predictability of the oceanic tides. Fascinating!

“It’s true!” McCoy roared back.

Spock shook his head. All of this loud yelling was beginning to hurt his head, especially since McCoy was standing right beside him. Perhaps Zortan had poor hearing, and McCoy was doing the yelling for Zortan’s benefit. McCoy could always be very considerate that way. He was really quite a considerate person. Spock, though, would appreciate it if McCoy would remember that he had very sensitive hearing--

“Understand, Zortan?! I’m his!” McCoy bellowed with tears of fear and anger smarting in his eyes. Damned if he’d bawl, though! But he was coming close! How did he get in this ridiculous situation, anyway?

Spock cringed from McCoy‘s yell, and blackness started advancing from the edges of his peripheral vision.

“Prove it, McCoy!” Zortan roared again.

Spock shook his head in pain, but was still enough of a scientist to be impressed by something else. 

Ah! See? Spock thought to himself. Zortan’s variety of vocabulary is back. In and out. Like breathing. Like the rhythm of the tides. It comes and goes. Now, Zortan should go back to just the two words-- Spock would observe and learn if he was correct.

But Spock never learned if he had proven his theory.

McCoy grabbed Spock’s hand nearest him. Well, did more than grab it. He threaded his fingers through Spock’s and, palm to palm, lifted their joined hands aloft, like they were celebrating something.

Spock forgot where Zortan was with his English. Spock forgot for a moment who was squeezing his hand. Spock even forgot for one blazing moment his own name. All of Spock’s attention was suddenly on his hand being held high over his head. Why was McCoy suddenly kissing him?! And so roughly?!

“We are one, Zortan! Spock and I are mated!”

We are? Spock wondered. When had that happened? Perhaps when all the dialogue was passing back and forth with phrases that he did not understand? But it looked like he would have been consulted, especially about something that involved him so personally. Or, perhaps someone was acting on his behalf-- Then, who? Jim Kirk?

“That’s the same as being married in our culture!” McCoy explained to Zortan.

That refocused Spock. Married?! He had not ever hoped for something like this with McCoy! Married!

“Oh.” Zortan stopped dead still.

Kirk had never seen even an automobile stop that completely that quickly. Kirk was impressed. The Romulan must be quite athletic and light on his feel despite his bulk. Maybe Zortan had trained as a dancer. Now, that might have been a sight to see. Kirk wanted if Zortan could pirouette.

Jim Kirk shook his head. He had to remind himself that this was not the type of information that should have his attention at that critical moment. There was a little more at stake than a Romulan’s ability to brake that smoothly.

“It is true!” McCoy continued in triumph and with the voice that he was apparently adopting now for the benefit of the hearing impaired. 

That was lucky. Because Spock was quickly losing his hearing. He had all of this stereo affect from these two yelling men.

Zortan looked disappointed. He seemed to believe McCoy. 

Kirk sighed with relief. Like Elvis, this Romulan appeared to respect marriage vows. The virtue of single women, no. But the sanctity of marriage, yes. Kirk was impressed. Even a half savage like this Romulan seemed to have some principles. There were some boundaries that even he wouldn’t cross.

Disappointment stayed on Zortan’s face. “You are certain, McCoy?”

“I am certain,” McCoy replied and squeezed Spock’s hand that he still held aloft.

All might have gone well if it hadn’t been for that hand squeeze. It was bad enough that McCoy was engaging Spock in a quite explicit session of hand sex, but then McCoy had squeezed. And that sent Spock over the edge. 

Spock might have been willing to keep his secret pining all to himself and never have let McCoy know of his interest. But squeezing Spock’s hand so roughly like that had the same effect as if McCoy had squeezed Spock’s penis. It registered the same with Spock. The man he was interested in was signaling that he was returning that interest. And it opened up all sorts of sensuous reactions in Spock.

All that Spock could see was McCoy in that red dress, and that dewy, translucent skin, and that sexy, swaying walk…. And it registered all over Spock, especially in his nether regions below his belt buckle.

And all that Spock could think was that this was McCoy, his mate. McCoy and Kirk had just announced it, so it must be true. McCoy was his mate, and Spock had to protect his mate.

“Are you really certain, McCoy?” Zortan asked in a wheedling voice and took a menacing step forward.

Spock took a defensive step forward and pulled a startled McCoy along, a startled McCoy who yipped in protest, tripped in his high heels, and caught himself by grabbing for Spock. But in the process of saving himself from a nasty spill, he used his other hand to grab Spock’s arm. McCoy’s first hand, of course, squeezed Spock’s hand roughly again.

Rough sex! was what registered in Spock’s brain and gonads. Spock’s brain becoming alert was one thing, but the gonads getting in on the action was quite another. It came across to Spock the only way it could.

The doctor was wanting Spock. Badly! McCoy was demanding! Sex! Now! Mine! Take me, Spock! Now! Rough! Rough as I am with you! Yours! Now!

“McCoy--” Zortan started.

Spock’s face darkened and his lips curled in hatred. “Mine!” he roared at Zortan and echoed McCoy‘s demand. Spock was operating on a primitive level. He was down to using words of one syllable. Zortan didn’t realize it, but at that moment he was ahead of Spock in linguistics. But that really wasn’t what was at stake here.

Yes, Spock was down to one syllable, but he got his point across. Either that, or the menacing look on his face convinced Zortan. Spock looked like he could eat flaming cannon balls headed his way. In fact, he would welcome and enjoy them. Send guided missiles next for dessert.

Zortan blinked and backed off. 

“Huh?” a startled McCoy questioned as he stared at Spock. “What the hell struck you?!”

“Mine!” was all that Spock answered. He looked pretty pissed off. 

That convinced McCoy. He wisely shut up for once. But probably not soon enough.

The snarling Vulcan was ready to defend his mate‘s tender anus to the death. McCoy sighed. He really had to lose this dress. Now he had two guys with heightened testosterone after him. He didn’t see much sleep in store for him soon. At least not alone.

Unless he started setting down some perimeters. Don’t be a victim, he reminded himself. The best defense was a good offense. Grow a pair, McCoy. Well, that wasn’t necessary, so maybe he could just start acting like he was already endowed.

“It’s time for me and my mate to go to our quarters,” McCoy declared and saw Kirk give him a questioning look. Great. Kirk didn’t know the plan, but he’d go along with whatever McCoy set up.

Now, all McCoy had to do was lose the Vulcan, drink about a gallon of good Kentucky bourbon, pass out, and forget about these three assholes and the mess they had gotten him into. Tomorrow, he would do a girly thing, plead that the vapors had gotten a hold on him, and let these same three assholes do whatever negotiating that they wanted to do with each other. He was through with them! He was through with this dumb ass situation! And, he thought as he mentally threw away his long feathered boa and the slinky red satin dress, he was through with show business! Red wasn’t his color, anyway!

“I will go to your quarters with you!” Zortan declared.

“Huh?” McCoy asked eloquently.

“I will go to--”

“You will not!” McCoy declared.

“I will go to--”

“Is that how you learned English?! You kept going over and over the same phrase, no matter if you were boring everyone else in the room?!”

“I will watch you mate.”

“What? Don‘t you mean ‘your mate?' You will watch my mate do, what?” McCoy asked. That was the wrong question to ask, he soon realized.

“It was a verb, not a noun, McCoy,” Zortan explained. “I will watch you mate. With Spock.”

“What?!”

“Now, who is having trouble with English? Is that not your native language, McCoy?”

“English isn’t what I’m having trouble with.”

“Perhaps then ending sentences with a preposition, McCoy?”

“How in blue blazing hell do you know about that?!”

“We studied that in advance language.”

“I had no idea of the thoroughness of your schooling,” McCoy remarked, adequately impressed.

“Oh, yes,” Zortan replied. “Our education was quite extensive.”

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Kirk interjected. They turned to him, and he tried to give them his most engaging smile. “I really hate to interrupt this interesting discussion about the structure of and teaching of the English language, especially when everyone is talking so nicely and all. And nobody is shouting at the moment. Or threatening anybody else. That’s all rather refreshing. But this discussion has nothing to do with treaties and our present stalemate.”

“Jim, the man is more sophisticated than I had supposed.”

“You’re impressed with Zortan now?“ Kirk glanced at Spock, then turned to McCoy. “Wanna watch it, Bones? I think you’re pissing off Spock. Or making him jealous.”

“What?!” Did McCoy have time for this now? When he was trying to get Zortan to lose interest?!

Kirk leaned toward McCoy. “The, ah, sophisticated statement you just made about Zortan. I, ah,” Kirk hem and hawed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t believe that Spock liked that you said it.”

McCoy glanced at Spock, then rolled his eyes in exasperation. But he had to agree with Kirk. Spock hadn’t been paying much attention until McCoy had dragged him into negotiations, literally, by grabbing Spock’s hand. Now Spock was glaring at Zortan and seemed very aware of the smallest innuendo that Zortan made toward McCoy. 

McCoy thought of banty roosters fighting over a banty hen. Spock and Zortan were a whole lot bigger than banty roosters, though, and supposed to be a whole lot smarter. But at the moment, the two men were thinking with the same thing that passed for a brain in banty roosters. And it certainly was something not located in either of their empty heads.

 

“You look chipper, Bones.”

“I am well rested. I got some much needed sleep last night.”

“Generally a night like that doesn’t happen until well past the honeymoon phase,” Kirk quipped.

“Ha! Ha! We had sex all night, as far as I know. When I went to sleep, Spock was going at it, hot and heavy, with my right hand. He wore my left one out first. Luckily, I had two. I don’t know if he got any sleep, but I sure did! And do my hands feel great this morning! Best massage I’ve had in years! Now, if he’d do full body, we’d be talking!”

“Wouldn’t that turn him on?”

“Don’t know. He’s got a helluva hand fetish, that’s as far as I can tell. He must go crazy for those girls who do hand lotion ads. You know, the hand models? He probably jacks off while looking at a bottle of Jurgens. He probably keeps a bottle of it hidden in his bottom drawer.”

“Bones! That’s hardly fair! After all, you’re the one who dragged him into this! Literally!”

“Don’t feel sorry for him! He had an all night orgy!”

“What did Zortan think of your sex practices?”

“I think we were the dullest stag film he’d ever seen. He was bored to death. He’s probably ready to leave so he can go watch ants scurrying around. That would be more action than he caught from Spock and me.”

“Wasn’t he disappointed?”

“He got to watch us have sex. We fulfilled our end of the bargain, even if we didn’t make it an official bargain. I don’t know what his gripe would be.”

 

“They didn’t have sex, Kirk!”

“Don’t look at me. I’m not their sex counselor.”

“Spock rubbed the hell out of McCoy’s hands. McCoy may not have fingerprints anymore, but that’s the only thing he lost from their ‘sex’ session.”

“It’s sex the Vulcan way. It’s what Spock understands and does.”

“He is half Earthling.”

“Yeah?” Kirk asked and braced himself. He knew what was probably coming. Zortan would have said it even if Kirk hadn’t asked. Zortan had that kind of look blazing from his eyes.

“So tonight McCoy will have sex with the half Earthling! The Earthling way!”

“Ah, I think that’s up to them. You’re not their sex counselor, either.”

“Maybe not. But I am the one who has to be pleased if you want that treaty signed.”

Kirk sighed. “What time do you want them in bed?”

Zortan had a big smile of satisfaction. “I knew you would see things my way.” His eyes gleamed. “And I will see things my way tonight. I am a noted seducer, Jim Kirk. I am sure that you have heard about my reputation in that regard. A lesser known fact is that I am also quite a voyeur. I love watching people have sex. It gets me turned on.” His eyes looked like sunshine striking polished agates. “Have them in bed early, Kirk. I want to make a long night of it.”

 

“Spock and I have to do, what?!”

“Just pantomime, Bones. You know, like the actors in stag films do.”

“In case you don’t know it, Jim, that isn’t all pantomime. Some penetration has to occur! Some snake has to go in the hole! Some monkey has to go up the tree! Some--”

“Enough with the euphemisms! I get the picture!”

“Wish that was all that I was getting,” McCoy grumbled.

Kirk tried to keep his lips from twitching, but failed.

“Are you laughing, Jim?!”

“No, no, I--” Kirk tried to deny with his hands held up in surrender.

“Because, if you think it’s so damn funny, I’ll hogtie you and put that damn red dress on you!”

“And disappoint Zortan?”

“You are laughing!”

“I’m sorry, Bones. It’s so damn ridiculous! You gotta admit that!”

“It would be, if it was happening to someone else,” McCoy grumbled.

Kirk’s face cleared of humor, but it was replaced with wonderment. “But still, Bones, you gotta admit something else. Spock! You’ll be getting Spock! Just think of that! Spock!”

“That’s the only thing that saves the whole situation, Jim. I’ll be getting Spock, and he won’t even know what it will mean to me. He’ll think we’ve been painted in a corner, and we have to do this to save an intergalactic war. I wouldn’t even get a chance at him, otherwise. So, it won’t be much of a sacrifice for me. Spock may lose a little sperm, but that’s all that the encounter will mean to him. And in the meantime, I get Spock! When else would I ever get a chance at him?! So, we both get what we want, save the universe in the process, and go our separate ways. It’s actually a win-win proposition.”

“That’s what I figured. I hoped that you would, too.”

McCoy grinned. “But I can’t make it too easy. I have to do a little bitching. Otherwise, Spock wouldn’t buy it.”

“Bones. You’re a man after my own heart.”

“You’re lucky that’s the only thing of yours in the negotiations,” McCoy grumbled. “Try having your asshole as part of the stakes, and then you’ll start understanding the situation.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains parodies of famous scenes from Star Trek.

The sunset is lovely, dear. Why don’t you come out on the veranda and have some lemonade with us? It‘s so refreshing out here after the sun has gone down--

No, Leonard, I do not understand this madness of yours to leave your wife and baby daughter to be a doctor out in space when you hate space so much--

Bones, you’re gonna love this ship! It’s called the Enterprise--

Why don’t you love me, Spock?!

Really, Dr. McCoy? You can ask me a question like that? What has led you to believe I would ever have any sort of tender feelings for you when I abhor a show of emotions so much?

Why, you pointed-eared hobgoblin! 

Pop!

“Hmm….”

“Bones? Bones? Are you back with us, Bones?”

McCoy turned his head. The world was full of feathers. Soft feathers. “Jim. Spock. Scotty. Hi, guys.”

“He’s recognizing people,“ Kirk said. “That’s a good sign.“

McCoy smiled softly. “Good to see you guys, too.” He grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. “Or anything.” He popped his eyes open, then he gingerly moved his legs. “Hmm. Sore,” he mumbled.

Kirk grinned. “You should be! What you’ve been through! Whew!”

Then McCoy remembered. “The treaty?” he asked breathlessly.

Kirk grinned with warmth and approval. “You saved the treaty. You saved the universe. We are at peace with the Romulans once more.”

“Wow!” McCoy said in awe, then he glanced at Kirk. “It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done, Jim.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t my asshole that was on the line. It wasn’t the one that everyone was wanting.” He looked thoughtful. “This time.”

“You’ve done it before, Jim. You would’ve used his need against him, too. Just as I did. Dirty old lecher, wanting to watch Spock and me having relations. And it was the first time for Spock and me.” McCoy managed a grin. “Of course, Zortan didn‘t know that. Spock and I were supposed to be mated, a long-standing couple. It’s a wonder that we were able to pull it off, acting like we were going through routine motions with each other. Of course, I had the easy part, just lying there. Spock was the one who had to rise to the occasion and take me.“ He grimaced as he gingerly moved a leg again. “Repeatedly.“ 

McCoy grinned up at Spock. “I don’t know how you did so well in that department. What was your secret? Did you think of some hottie back on Vulcan? Or something really sexy for you like Socrates and the Athenian School of Thought? Or did you use meditation techniques and think you were somewhere else, doing something else? Or, I know! I know! The Star Fleet Rule Book?! Why didn‘t I think of that first? It was a natural. And so close. It was right on the tip of your tongue.” He saw that Spock was becoming uncomfortable, and some devious demon spurred McCoy on. “Oh, that‘s right. You couldn’t recite the rule book, could you? Your tongue was busy doing other things. Wasn‘t it?“ he teased softly and wiggled his eyebrows at Spock.

Spock looked pained and turned away.

Kirk and Scotty traded bemused glances.

“Surprisingly, Doctor, I used none of those techniques,” Spock replied dryly as if he had been posed with a legitimate question.

How could Spock possibly top what McCoy had said, Kirk wondered, when McCoy had been very accurate, almost to the point of being biting.

McCoy frowned. “Oh? What, then?”

“Why, the best stimulus available, Doctor. You yourself.”

“You’re sore as hell, aren’t you, Vulcan?” McCoy muttered.

“Apparently, not as sore as you are,” Spock snapped back.

“I meant that you’re pissed off.”

“Aren’t you, Doctor?”

“Guys! Guys!” Kirk interrupted. “Let’s leave that, okay?” He frowned slightly, remembering. “We have more to discuss. There’s more, Bones. I think you‘re strong enough to handle it now.”

McCoy looked at him suspiciously. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Well, the good news is that Zortan is satisfied that you and Spock are mated to each other.”

“Good,” McCoy said with a sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t want to have to go through all of that convincing stage again.” He saw Spock roll his eyes and look away.

“There’s more,” Kirk ventured.

McCoy frowned. “Something tells me I’m not going to like this.” He saw Kirk and Spock exchange looks. 

Kirk look exasperated. “Spock? You wanna tell him, or shall I? After all, you saw it, and I didn’t.”

Spock breathed deeply and wanted to turn away but knew there was nowhere to turn. He had to face what had happened.

“Saw what? What are you trying to tell me?” McCoy wanted to know.

“Spock?” Kirk prompted.

Spock looked pained, but began to speak. “We did ‘it,’ ah, several times.”

“Yes. And all were wonderful. You were great, Vulcan.”

Spock blushed a dark green. 

“Just in case I forget to tell you, or come to my senses after I fully recover. You need to know that you were more than adequate.”

“Thank you,” Spock said carefully.

“Why be so modest? You really deliver. You‘re talking to a satisfied customer.”

Spock rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked away.

“And it was doubly difficult with an audience watching. I don’t know if I could’ve gotten it up, but you got the old pump primed every time.”

McCoy had never realized that Spock could blush that deep of a color.

“Don’t tell me that I’m embarrassing you? Why should you be embarrassed? I’m just giving credit where credit is due.”

Spock managed to get turned away that time. “Please, Doctor,” he whispered.

McCoy grinned. “I believe that under the circumstances, we’re close enough now that you can call me by my first name. And don’t be modest. Each time was wonderful. I appreciated all that I got.”

That statement really caused some coughing and foot shuffling from Kirk and Scotty. What was wrong with those characters, anyway, McCoy wondered. They had surely heard locker room stories before. McCoy supposed it was different when the one on the receiving end was relating the war story. That probably rarely happened, if ever.

Who better, McCoy wondered.

Spock forced himself to face McCoy again. “There was once, though. One of the, ah, times of romantic interlude. You, ah, particularly moaned and trembled and did a lot of tongue clacking and rubbing your face into the pillow. I believe that you got the pillow quite soggy with your slobbering and, uh, crying for, ah.” Spock frowned, and for a moment it was doubtful if he could continue. Then he took a deep breath and uttered. “You cried for, ah, mercy and then changed your mind. You wanted more. You begged for more. Much, much more,” Spock ended with a mumble and a frown.

“Oh, yeah,” McCoy agreed in a trance. “That was, that was, simply, simply wonderful.”

“You, ah, encouraged me to be rough.“ 

“Yeah,“ McCoy sighed and rubbed his feet against the bed sheet. “I remember,“ he said softly.

Spock frowned. “Then, you wished me to be, ah, sweet, then, ah, rough again,” he muttered, then frowned again.

“Oh, yeah,” McCoy said with a lazy smile. “I remember that. You were great. The whole experience. You were just wonderful.” He was reliving the experience with a dreamy look on his face. “Wonderful.”

“Uh--” Spock started and looked deeply pained.

“Yeah?”

“Well, ah--”

“Yeah?”

“That, ah, was not, ah, me,” Spock managed to get out.

“Not you,” McCoy repeated flatly.

“Correct. Not, ah, me.”

“Then, ah, who?” McCoy asked, with rising horror gripping him.

“Uh--”

Suddenly, McCoy knew. “Zortan? It was Zortan?! Zortan FUCKED me?!”

“Yes,” Spock whispered.

“But, but, why?! Why would you allow that?!”

“The treaty--”

“The treaty be damned!”

“It was either that, or intergalactic war.”

“There might be intergalactic war right now! Smaller scale. You and me. With one stipulation. I get to make the first hit. Guess where I’ll be aiming, Vulcan?!”

Spock looked uncomfortable.

“It’s over, Bones,” Kirk said softly. “What’s done is done.”

“How come I feel like the opposite of Helen of Troy? How come I feel like the Trojan Horse wanted me?” He frowned. “And had me?! It would‘ve had a dong to match the size of Zortan‘s!”

“It was very difficult for me to watch him do that to you, Doctor.” 

McCoy was dumbfounded, then found his voice back. “You watched?!”

Spock grimaced and nodded quickly.

“That was part of the bargain that Zortan and I struck while you dozed, Doctor. He wanted to show off to me his skills. He wanted to gloat, too, I suppose. It hurt to watch because you were enjoying it so much.”

“I thought it was you on hyper drive! How was I to know that you had substituted a ringer on me?!”

“It was quite stimulating. He is quite skilled.”

“I’m glad that you enjoyed his technique,” McCoy grumbled.

“And you did not?”

“Well, now that you mention it--”

“How could you? We are mated!”

“Spock! We are not mated! That was a ruse! It didn’t work, “ McCoy mumbled. “But it was supposed to be a ruse! Zortan was supposed to fall for it!” McCoy glared at Spock. “Not you!” McCoy sighed. “Well, at least we got the treaty.”

Spock inhaled deeply again, and McCoy took that as a bad sign.

“Bones. There’s, ah, more,” Kirk supplied.

McCoy had been right, apparently. Spock’s deep inhale had been a bad sign.

“Oh?” McCoy questioned.

Kirk turned to Spock. “Spock ? You wanna tell him? It was kinda you and Zortan negotiating that part of the treaty.”

Spock inhaled deeply again.

Oh, boy! At this rate, Spock was going to be hyperventilating before McCoy knew the whole situation that he was apparently in now. And he had to be involved, otherwise Spock and Kirk wouldn’t be skirting around him like he was three months overdue with twins.

“It seems,” Spock started with a frown, “that Zortan was quite impressed with your performance with, ah, him.”

“That’s because I thought it was you suddenly developing a new technique and a whole lot of finesse. And out and out energy. I was impressed. And pleased. With YOU. Not him! YOU!”

Spock pursed his lips and blushed. Actually, blushed. “Be that as it may, he has made a new stipulation to the treaty.”

“And that is?” McCoy said unnaturally calmly and hoped that his underlying warning was quite evident.

Spock heard the unnatural calm in McCoy’s voice, but plowed ahead. He had to. McCoy had to know what Spock had gotten him into.

“The new stipulation is that Zortan has the guaranteed privilege of visiting you once a month for, ah, relations with you for as long of a time as he chooses.” Spock frowned. “I believe that the exact term he used was, ’Until the universe burns away.’”

McCoy simply stared. Simply stared, and Kirk wondered why McCoy wasn’t being vocal. Then Spock began to wonder the same thing. Then Spock got worried because McCoy looked like he was going to explode. He began to tremble and tremble, much the same way that the old Model T Fords used to shake around in the early Twentieth Century on Earth.

Then McCoy opened his mouth. The other three knew something was coming out. They knew it would be big.

It was.

“Spock-k-k-k!”

 

Somehow, Jim Kirk managed to convince Zortan that intergalactic treaties could not be negotiated on the status of a single individual and had to be done between federations or planets or whatever the governing unit was for individuals en masse. Zortan was fine, then he wanted the federation or planet or whatever the governing unit was for individuals en masse to provide him with suitable romantic partners on a monthly basis. 

Zortan would prefer McCoy. He said that he had particularly liked the way that McCoy had mewed for him. Mewed! Zortan wanted to make McCoy do that again with McCoy enjoying Zortan as much as he had before. If McCoy was unwilling, then Zortan would settle for whoever was provided. But the selections of partners had to be to his likening. 

All guys. 

All wearing red dresses with trailing fringe. 

All mewing.

Fine, Jim Kirk decided with a sigh. Now he was lining up sexual partners for a sex-crazed maniac. Wouldn’t his mother be thrilled?! He would go from ‘My Son, the Starfleet Captain’ to ‘My Son, the Pimp.’ 

 

“You could probably name your price with Zortan, Bones. Anything you wanted. Land. Money. Jewelry. A medical complex anywhere your chose. All you‘d have to do is meet him once a month for fun and games. How bad would that be? You‘re already, ah, broken in, anyway. Are you sure that you‘re not interested? ”

“Yes! I am not interesting in being Zortan‘s monthly date. It would take me that long to heal up between sessions. I wouldn‘t get anything else done. And I‘m kind of liking the life I already have, thank you very much!”

“Zortan and the Federation would make it worth your while. What would it take then to change your mind?”

“Sixty billion dollars and the planet Jupiter thrown in to sweeten the pot!” McCoy said with satisfaction. “And all of the mineral rights from the surface to a thousand feet down on Venus!”

“So? There is a price.”

McCoy just glared at him.

“Oh, and, Bones?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you teach the guys to mew?”

“Mew?! Why in the hell would I have to teach guys how to mew?!”

“You don’t want to know, Bones,” Kirk answered with a sigh. “You don’t want to know.” Kirk considered. “Just know this, though. You seem to be some kind of expert on it.”

“The things a guy never knew about himself,” McCoy muttered. He looked thoughtfully at Kirk. “Wonder how I picked up that skill?”

You don’t want to know that, either, Kirk thought to himself.

 

Kirk noticed, though, that McCoy would toy with the idea of making Zortan happy just to get a rise out of Spock. Kirk thought that might be a bad idea to mess with Spock like that, but it was, after all, McCoy’s business. It was still McCoy’s asshole on the negotiations table.

But maybe McCoy should pay a little bit more attention to the dark green color of Spock’s face and those blazing black eyes whenever McCoy started his teasing about Zortan and his lovemaking. Spock was a little sensitive about that than McCoy realized.

 

“It bothered Spock to have Zortan do that to you, Bones.”

“It bothered Spock?! What the hell?! He wasn’t on the receiving end of the mightiest pile driver in the galaxy! If he had been, then he would’ve known what he was talking about! Why in the hell was Spock bothered?!”

“He has feelings for you, Bones. He didn’t want another guy getting the chance to sample your, ah, fruit orchard.”

“Now I’m a fucking fruit orchard! Well, the cherries are out of season in this orchard! Mine have already been crushed!”

Kirk grimaced. “Please, Bones. That’s a rather brutal illusion.”

“Now it’s difficult for you to hear about what happened to me?! Why is it that you two guys are hurting, and I’m the one with the asshole that’s been violated?! Why don’t you guys get raped, so that I can bellyache about the unfairness of it for awhile! Something has gotta be convoluted about thinking around here!” he muttered.

“Bones, Spock thinks that you two are mated. He really seems to believe that you are his.”

McCoy crossed his arms in disgust. “He might as well! Everyone else thinks that they own me, too! But guess what? ‘My heart belongs to Daddy!’ And me! Just me!”

“It’s not your heart that they are all after, Bones.”

“Well, guess what?! There’s exclusive rights go with that, too!”

“And Spock thinks he has exclusive rights. That red dress made quite an impression on him. And don‘t push Spock too far. Don‘t get him to snarling. If you do, it‘ll probably mean ‘goodbye, asshole’ for you, because Spock will be demanding his rights as alpha mate.”

“No alpha mate. No beta mate. No rights. No snarling.”

“Not my rules. Just saying. Watch the big green guy and his sense of justice. It could get ugly for you. And you might not be able to sit down for a week.”

McCoy gave Kirk a lazy smile. “Wasn’t that kinda what I was after? A good time with the Vulcan?”

“He’s wanting more. He thinks it’s permanent.”

McCoy breathed deeply. “I don’t know if I’m ready to commit to that much. It feels like we skipped a few steps. You know, first date, first kiss, meeting the folks, engagement, bridal showers, wedding, then the honeymoon. Hell, not us! We started with the honeymoon!”

“Just saying. Don’t bait the Vulcan. There was something going on between you and Spock even before Zortan came on the scene, wasn‘t there?”

McCoy snorted.

“I had eyes. I could see. You two were sniffing around each other, becoming aware of each other, doing stupid things to get the other one‘s attention. It was kind of like being back in Junior High again to watch all that.”

“You're off-base! He and I’ve known each other for years! Why should we strike up something now?!”

“That doesn’t always make a difference. I think it’s kind of like cancer cells developing. Everything is humming along nicely in a human body. And then one day a cell goes rogue and mutates, and suddenly the body is hosting cancer.”

“Spock and I are cancer cells?!”

“No. You missed my analogy.”

“I understood it, Kirk. You’re saying, that somewhere along the line, comradeship became friendship, and friendship was developing into a love interest.”

“Exactly! And Spock thinks it’s past the developing stage. He thinks it’s here!” Kirk winked. “And you know what? I do, too! It bothered him that he couldn‘t protect you.”

“It was a ruse! What is it with you two assholes?! First you suffer and feel humiliated when you weren’t the ones violated! And then neither of you can understand that the mating angle was merely a ruse!” McCoy shook his head in wonder. “Boy, I must be quite a salesman! I had three of you convinced that Spock and I were mated! Maybe I better start selling snake oil around the universe! With my silver tongue, I’d make a killing!”

“I’m just saying to go a little lighter around Spock, okay? He’s taking this mating thing seriously. I think he’s even been practicing.“

“Practicing, what?! Jacking off while dreaming of my asshole?!“

“Not that. Maybe I should say that he’s been reading up about, ah, certain romantic techniques online. His theory is that Zortan got his knowledge from somewhere. Someone who looks like he juggles anvils probably wasn’t born with the, ah, finesse he possessed to give you the experience that he did. Zortan must’ve believed in the old adage that anything you want is just a click away on the computer! Anyway, Spock is believing it, too. He wants to impress you romantically just the way Zortan did.“

“While it’s true that Zortan gave me a helluva delicious working over, that wasn’t what was important to me. It wasn’t the act, it was the one that I thought was doing it to me. Hell, Spock might’ve just run his hands all over me until I fell asleep from the contact, and I would’ve been satisfied. Because it was SPOCK who would’ve been doing it to me. But I don’t care anything about that kind of stuff anymore. I just want some attention from Spock. You know, just some horsing around. Like always.”

“You don’t care anything about that kind of stuff anymore?!” Kirk mocked. “Now, who are trying to kid?!”

McCoy rolled his eyes. If it was this difficult for Kirk to see reason, how difficult would the Vulcan be?!

 

But, amazingly, Spock didn’t step forward to stake his claim, and McCoy thought that all of that business was forgotten. He returned the red dress to the costume department and bid his show biz career at an end. 

Routine would thankfully start again. McCoy would do his shift in sickbay, eat most meals with Kirk and Spock, and go on landing parties with the same two guys. Same old, same old. Observe plants that trumpet like elephants to celebrate. Visit aliens who walk sideways. Back to routine. Nothing new there. 

Hopefully, Spock would never mention the mating thing again. That was fine with McCoy. He sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up. 

Maybe Kirk was right. Stop teasing Spock. Yeah, that might be best, after all. McCoy had had a wonderful night with Spock, if you didn’t include Zortan’s presence and, ah, participation. Maybe McCoy should just let it go at that. He’d like to be friends with Spock, at least.

Hmm, on second thought, if something else eventually developed, McCoy might be interested.

He frowned. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted with Spock. Part of him wanted their old relationship, before they had become ‘aware’ of each other. Sometimes, he wished that they could go back to that. At least that kind of relationship he understood and could control somewhat. But, this, this was all so strange. McCoy felt off balance and unsure of himself.

Maybe McCoy could just angle the relationship back to the time before he and Spock had become ‘aware’ of each other. That might be for the best.

Why, then, did he feel that pang of disappointment?

 

Spock had not approached McCoy because he thought McCoy needed time. Spock was willing to give him that time. After all, they had the rest of their lives. Spock was willing, also, to be McCoy’s protector in the interim. That’s what the alpha mate did for his beloved. He protected and nurtured and made the world good for the one who needed help. 

Spock could even go as far as to leave McCoy alone, if that was what McCoy wanted, and not claim his rights as alpha mate. McCoy would be near and friendly. For now, that was enough.

 

And it all might have gone on that in that indecisive fashion if the new ensign in engineering had not struck up an animated conversation with McCoy. It seemed that they had a lot in common: baseball, rock ‘n’ roll music, Southern cooking. And Evans was even from Georgia! Small world, wasn’t it?!

McCoy didn’t know how small, either. He did not realize that Spock was watching, and listening, while another man flirted with his mate. 

Or that was how it seemed to Spock. Spock, the alpha mate. Spock, who was willing to leave McCoy alone, if that was what McCoy wanted.

But everyone else had to leave McCoy alone, too.

 

Apparently McCoy and Ensign Evans did not know the rules. Evans was unimportant; he was merely the catalyst. But Spock had to stop this infidelity at its source. With McCoy. McCoy was the slattern with the easy morals who was being untrue to his alpha mate.

McCoy needed to be reminded of what his responsibilities were as Spock’s mate.

McCoy would have to be properly instructed.

It was time for Spock to claim his rights as alpha mate.

 

The door to McCoy’s quarters whooshed open to reveal Spock standing there.

“Mr. Spock!” McCoy greeted genially. “Come on in!” 

Spock complied as the door closed behind him.

The doctor smiled and kept on talking. “My, I was certainly glad to get back into my Star Trek uniform again. It was getting so I wasn’t noticing the draft up my skirt that women have to put up with. It must be chilly as hell in the wintertime.” He looked up puzzled. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue today?”

McCoy laughed as he turned aside. “Even your lack of understanding our idioms isn’t going to bother me today. Want a drink? Oh, that’s right. They don’t affect you. Hope you don’t mind if I do then?”

“I’m kind of celebrating, in a way,” McCoy said as he poured golden liquid into a shot glass. “I’m just glad that it’s over. The treaty has taken affect, and Zortan is safely on his way back to wherever it was that he came from. I feel sorry for him in a way. I guess he fell in lust with the other me, my girly side, and I disappointed him. Oh, well! So go the affairs of the heart.”

He sipped his drink. “Ah! I’m glad we can celebrate. I’m happy. Jim’s happy. And you--” He looked over at Spock who was still standing near the door. 

Spock seemed to be staring at something past McCoy‘s left shoulder.

“How are you, Spock? Are you happy with the outcome of our little adventure?”

When Spock didn’t answer, McCoy frowned. He couldn‘t remember Spock speaking since he had entered. “You’re awfully quiet today.” He set down his drink. “Are you coming down with something? Spock?” His frown deepened. “Are you okay? Can you even hear me?”

Spock turned his head and focused on McCoy as if he was trying to remember who he was.

“Spock? Is something the matter?” He walked quickly to Spock and touched Spock’s forehead with his hand. “No warmer than usual.“ He grinned. “Just one notch below a fully stoked furnace.“ When that didn’t get a response, McCoy stared openly at his friend. “What’s the matter with you, anyway?”

Spock glared at McCoy and frowned.

“Spock?” He wiped his hand down Spock’s face. It was a soothing gesture, meant to show his concern and caring.

But Spock didn’t want soothing.

Spock’s hand shot out and grabbed McCoy’s wrist.

“Let go of my wrist! What’s wrong with you?! You’re starting to scare me!”

McCoy struggled and Spock’s grip tightened.

“Ouch! Spock! What’s the matter with you?! What you do want?!”

Then Spock spoke only one word in answer to all of McCoy‘s questions.

“Mine!” he snarled.

Oh, hell, McCoy thought. The Vulcan snarled.

Goodbye, asshole.

Hello, alpha mate.

McCoy would have to remember to go get that red dress on permanent loan from the costume department. 

Yep, he’d be sure to do that first thing.

After he could walk again.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing dealing with Star Trek, its characters and/or story lines.  
> I own nothing of Cole Porter's marvelous "My Heart Belongs To Daddy," nor nothing of any of the many fine renditions of it that have been recorded and/or produced.  
> I own nothing of the Jurgens hand lotion products nor do I represent the company.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Siren Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636986) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata)




End file.
